Mail Order Man
by aplayatcrazy
Summary: When Alfred announces to his family that he's gay, his father doesn't take it well and orders both he and Matthew, mail order brides. However, an unseen variable is thrown in when Alfred takes a liking to Ivan instead of his would be bride. Warnings: Rape, mail order bride, abuse, sex, male/male and male/female. RusAme, AmeBela, CanUkr
1. For a Pretty Penny

December was already a bad month. You couldn't go outside, there was hardly any sun, so many blizzards. Not that it was particularly nice in the summer but at least we could go outside and escape for a bit. Or at least two of us could. One would always have to be left behind as a collateral. Father knew all too well that we would not leave the others behind. My sisters would have no luck in escaping even if I was left behind. They could not speak English. Where else could they go beside here? No one would take them in. They had no money to go anywhere. Even with English on my side, as father was convinced that I would only get a good job to take care of the family if I had it, I had not the money to leave.

Father had the money. Somehow, the unemployed man had enough to buy what was needed to keep us alive and pay the bills. And somehow, he had the money to pay for some extra things that I did not understand. What were they for? How did father come by them? My sisters knew. They would get a look in their eyes when they saw them that I could only describe as fear. He would take them into the bedroom and lock the door. They sounded as if they were in pain. As more and more of these things turned up, I began to associate them with pain for my sisters and tried to protect them. However the first time that I did so, my sisters' screams were louder than ever. I stopped. Protecting them from father only caused them more agony.

On our outings, I tried to ask about what went on behind the closed doors but never got far. They would shake their heads, the younger would simply fall silent, the elder would tell me it was better if I didn't know.

This year, December was worse. The snow fall had gotten drastic. Father had been gone for four days, left to get some more food, we hoped. The longer he was gone, the closer we got to starving. When he came home, there was plenty of food to eat. Together, we shared a meal that made my stomach hurt to the point I felt it would burst. I was deceived. This wonderful meal was nothing more than what was needed to keep our attention from the wooden crates that had come home.

After dinner, father took out some cloth from the boxes, red, a color I hadn't seen often for clothing. He told them to take off their clothing, and ripped off Yekaterina's when she was too slow. Despite knowing that I might make it worse, grabbed Natalia and pulled her back, huddling into a corner in attempt to protect her. My elder sister cried as the too tight material was forced onto her, holding her breasts up to make them seem larger. It barely covered anything. And then, a fake bouquet was tied into her hands, the rope digging into her skin.

"If you make one sound, you will be killed." He said sternly, sticking a sock in her mouth and wrapping a piece of cloth around it.

She was shoved into one of the crates in a way that I had not thought possible, her cries muffled as he nailed the lid down. It was kicked out of the way as if there wasn't someone inside of it. As if it wasn't my sister.

"Shhh." I said softly, trying to soothe my sister.

It was useless. We both knew it was. Absolutely pointless. Father only grabbed her and did the same thing as he had with Yekaterina.

"Отец!" I screamed, grabbing onto his arm as he started to move them. "Что ты делаешь? Куда вы их? Прекратите! Пожалуйста!"

I stumbled backwards, my hand clutching my now reddened cheek.

"English, boy!" he spat.

"Please! Отец, just tell me!" I begged, "What are you doing?!"

Father shook me off of his arm again. He basically dropped the box he was carrying and turned to me. "They are going to get 'better life'." He said mockingly. "With new husbands in America. It will be good for them. Make big families to take care of. Do not be worrying, they were not sold for rubles. It was… a 'pretty penny'… as said."

"Отец! Sold?" I asked, "They will die! They will not make it. They cannot speak English! Men will kill them. You would send them to deaths over 'pretty penny'?"

He was silent. We both knew the answer. He would sell them for money in a heartbeat and he already had. They would more than likely never see each other again, let alone me or our father.

"Let me go with them?" I suggested, "Sell me as translator. I can go for little money. As much as they will offer. Less mouths to feed, more money for you."

He only laughed. "Sell you?" he snorted, "No, could not. You will make more for me later. But you will come with. Help deliver them. I cannot carry both."

"Но-"

"Хватит! Мое слово является окончательным!"

* * *

*Отец - father

* Что ты делаешь? Куда вы их? Прекратите! Пожалуйста! - What are you doing? Where are you taking them? Stop it! Please!

*Но - but

*Хватит! Мое слово является окончательным! - Enough! My word is final!


	2. And for a Couple Dimes

Alfred hadn't expected his coming out to be such a big deal. It was just a chance he saw at dinner one night and he took it. However, his father hadn't approved. It wasn't like he was secretive about it. He'd had men over before; Mattie knew about it. Maybe if his dad was home for more than an hour he'd notice it. But things couldn't ever be easy. Did he think that because he liked guys that Matt would get infected or something? Like his brother cared. He didn't care what Alfred did, as long as he knew that he was happy. Which Alfred and Matthew knew each other were perfectly content with each of their lives.

He hadn't expected his father to do something so drastic. He ignored the knock on the door, knowing that the butler would get to it. Probably wasn't him for anyways. If it was one of his friends, they would have just come in. He stuffed more chips into his mouth and continued his game.

"No no no, go and take your break." He choked as he head his father say this. He never answered the door. Interest peaked, he paused the game and got up to watch from the door way.

"Jones?" asked a heavily accented man. From what Alfred could see, he had a long beard, curly hairs of differing shades merging with one another. A worn wooden box was dropped onto the floor the second my father nodded.

There was a muffled scream that made his eyes widen. What was that? The bearded man said something in a different language and kicked the box.

"Dad?" he asked, walking over to the now closed door. Alfred didn't notice the other man until he got closer. I watched him put the box down carefully, as if whatever was in it was made of the most fragile glass. "What's this?"

"A solution." His father said, signing a check and folding it away in his pocket. "You'll get this after you take one of them downstairs. Doesn't matter which one, I will lead you down to the room. The other will need to go upstairs. My son will lead you to the room. Alfred lead one of these men to Matthew's room."

Alfred swallowed and nodded, heading up the stairs. He heard one of the men behind him pick up a box and hurry after him. He opened the door and let the other walk into the room. He couldn't be too much older than Alfred was. Not a chance. Sure, his hair was so blonde that it was almost white but his eyes held a childishness to them. How absolutely stunning those eyes were. Just absolutely breath-taking.

He looked away awkwardly as the man looked up at him, not wanting him to know that he was staring.

"I…" he swallowed, "Box… open or keep close?"

Alfred looked at the crate, desperately wanting to know what was inside. "I think its Matt's. We should just leave it…" he shook his head, leaning against the open door, a signal for them to leave.

The larger of the two seemed hesitant to leave it, as if he was giving up something well loved. Maybe it was, Alfred didn't know. But he was determined to find out somehow.

"What's in it?" he asked, almost scared to know. As well as he should have been. The man's response sent shivers down his spine, his blood turn to ice.

"Is my sister."

He swallowed and looked at the box. Matt wouldn't mind if it was opened… would he? No. Alfred needed to get her out of there. How uncomfortable that must be. How long was she in there for?

"Help me get her out." Alfred said, hurrying over and pulling at the lid.

It didn't even take a second to rush over and start to pull the lid off as well. The wood creaked as the nails ripped from it, the lid thrown into the room. The sight in front of him disgusted him. The poor girl was bruised and forced into the tiny box. She shook horribly, eyes dazed over as if she wasn't even there. As the man pulled her out of the box, she let out a half scream in fright before realizing who it was. Alfred watched as he comforted his sister, holding her close and whispering words in a language that he didn't understand.

"Can you tell her that Matt's going to take care of her?"

The man looked at him, the woman trying to pretend that he wasn't there.

"My brother's a good guy. He's not going to hurt her." He insisted.

This time, the man spoke, saying something in the other language. Alfred caught what sounded like his brother's name but he couldn't be too sure. It wasn't exactly his name. Close sounding though.

After a while, Alfred heard his name being called from downstairs. His father… how could he do this?

"We should go back down stairs." He sighed, not really knowing what else to say.

The way the man looked at him made Alfred regret that he had said anything. He could have just waited until his father came up to get them.

"Keep me?" he asked softly, "I translate. I… I… clean? I help. Please."

Alfred sighed. "How? I can't, can I? Did father buy you? Cause if he didn't I don't know if I can keep you here. Could I… buy you?"

The Slavic man nodded. "If enough. Please."

"I'll try." Alfred said, "Even if you can't stay, I'll promise you that she'll be safe. What's your name?"

"Both?" the Russian asked, still holding onto his sister protectively.

Alfred nodded, though his breath hitched as he had forgotten about the other box. "Yes, both of them."

He paused, seeming to think about something. "Ivan Braginski." He said softly. It sounded odd in English but he supposed that it would have to do.

"Ivan." He repeated, "It's nice to meet you, I'm-"

"ALFRED!"

"-yeah, that. We should get going before either of us get into too much trouble."

Ivan kissed his sister and set her on the bed, hurrying after Alfred to find two very unhappy looking fathers standing by the door.

"Что, черт возьми, вы думаете, что вы делали?" Ivan's father shouted, arms crossed over his chest

Ivan moved over to him quickly, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped. "К сожалению, отец, у него были вопросы."

"Что вы думаете, что вы делали?" Alfred watched as Ivan's collar was grabbed by his father. The man shook him, face nearly red with anger. "Сколько ты ему сказал?" He threw him to the floor and kicked him in the stomach. "Ты жалкое подобие сына!" he spat.

"Sir," Alfred moved forward, ignoring the glare from his father. "I would like to buy your son, if I possibly could. What's your price?"

* * *

Что, черт возьми, вы думаете, что вы делали? - What the hell do you think you've been doing?

К сожалению, отец, у него были вопросы. - Sorry, father, he had questions.

Что вы думаете, что вы делали? – What did you think you were doing?

Сколько ты ему сказал? – How much did you tell him?

Ты жалкое подобие сына! - You're a pathetic excuse for a son!

* * *

**How odd... since I've uploaded the story, I've gotten 125 visitors, 128 views, 2 favs, and 6 alerts. And yet, not a single review. Thanks, glad to know that my hard work for your enjoyment is appreciated. Love you too.**


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